For a handfull of copper

((lets get started!))

The Great West. Its been five years since the great civil war between magic users and industrialists ended and the land have been since then in a state of change. Following the victory of the industrialists, railroads have been laid, mines established and factories built and settlers building their homes. Times are still far from peaceful as there are remnants of the mage armies scattered around the lands. Acting in secrecy in hopes of one day get the jump on the industrialists. Native elves defending their homelands. Large bands of orc raiders prowling the prairie. As well as the untold beasts and monsters out in the wilds where civilization has yet reached.

It was a bad time to be a mage. But it was an excellent time to hunt them. You could get good money by bringing in a wanted mage, mainly because few people wanted to do it. Who wanted to face a mage with just a gun? A suicidal fucktard most like. Anyone that made the wanted list was desperate enough to pull out all the Aces and flatten surrounding land with their most powerful spells. The urge to live was a strong one.

However what was the best way to defeat a mage? With another mage of course. Romulus Senstreed had spent time when he was younger showing off his magic, well enough that he knew how to use it. However as he had grown older and seen how mages were treated...well...he'd rather live thank you very much. So he grabbed up a job as a Bounty Hunter specializing in mages. A nonmagical person had a hard time detecting magic which meant he could easily pass as nonmagical himself. Any nearby mages wouldn't rat HIM out because that would rat THEM out as well.

It wasn't that Romulus had anything against mages, if they weren't worth any money he left them alone, but he did enjoy booze and whores and it was difficult to get those things without cash. Defeating mages was the most reliable way to make money.

Sitting at the bar nursing his beer he looked at the wanted poster in his hand. A reward of 1000 for this mage. Dead or Alive. Romulus smirked to himself and took another drink of his beer. Mages were always easier to handle dead. Folding the poster up he stuck it in the back pocket of his cow hide pants, the two rifles crossed on his back clattered slightly as he moved out of the bar and back out into the blinding sunlight. Some people across the street stared at him and he gave them a sharp toothed smile. It was hard not to stare, he understood that. Standing at six feet and three inches he was hard to miss in a crowd. His face was haggard from years in the desert and a scar was easily visible around his neck, dusty brown hair fell from under his stetson and shadowed his dark brown eyes. He tipped his hat at the gogglers and then strode off to do some research about his newest target.

He could do with a whiskey. Hell, he could do with a couple.

Since the war, things had never been easy, even more so for a hired gun like himself. He had stood with the mages during the war, volunteered, and they had been beaten. He was one of the few remaining that had stood at Arthurian's pass, now named Defiance, and held the Industrialist's to a stand still, but in the end, the mages had folded, feeling that their cause for the time being was lost.

Tannor had felt betrayed in the end, bitter towards the industrialists who couldn't beat them and bitter towards the mages who had run at the last, leaving him and what remained of his company on the ridge.

He stopped his horse at the side of the road, tipping his wide brimmed hat at that wagon master as his dozen or so wagoneers trundled past. He had lost 2 men to Orc raiders during the trek, but his men had held. He watched as the men walked the last few feet to the local tavern. He watched as Megan looked back to make sure he was still coming. She had stayed with him until the end, and he trusted her with his life, as he has needed to sometimes. The men had their money and they were off to spend it on what they wanted. He watched Megan tie up her horse and enter the tavern when he saw a man exit the place. He felt his medallion burn on his chest, icy cold and watched the man stride down the street, away from him. There was something about the man, admittedly, he was supposedly a magical type, though his medallion sometimes played off wrong, but that wasn't it, it was the two rifles strapped across his back that Tannor was more interested in, bulky, long distance guns. Tannor shook his head as the last of wagons trundled past, already new in town and he was planning how to take a man down. He smiled ruefully to himself and rode his horse towards the tavern for that whiskey.

Tannor dismounted, his long black patched riding coat sweeping back showing the butts of twin pistols at his hip. Tannor glanced around as he stepped onto the hard packed earth outside the inn, the dust adding to his black leather boots and dust stained jeans. He tied his horse to the hitching post next to Megan's and applied the feed bag to his horse, unsure of how long he would be in the establishment.

They needed a job, there was no denying that, money only lasted so long, but more so, Tannor felt the itch to move. He brushed the surface dust off his long coat and jeans, patting clouds of dust and dirt off his clothes. Tannor wasn't tall by any means, standing around five and a half feet tall, his angular face gruff and chiselled, and he kept his brown hair medium in length and in a tangled mess most times.

He straightened slowly, his blue eyes cold and piercing and he strode into the tavern.

The doors swung open and a wall of hot sticky humidity hit him, as did a wave of noise. He grimaced as the men downed drinks and cavorted with the ladies as he looked about. He saw Megan on the far side of the room, a bottle of whiskey and two small glasses before her, waiting for him.

She wasn't pretty, far from it, more handsome would be the word to use. Her mouth was too wide and seemed downcast to grimace at you. Her brown eyes sat like hard agates beneath thick eyebrows and her hair was tied into a ponytail. He sat down across from her, both seats with the back against a wall and the room able to be surveyed from their spot.

Megan said nothing and poured two drinks, pushing one towards him and raising her own glass, "Arthurian's" Megan stated the word plainly, she was one of the few of the company of Tannor's left and he raised his own glass and downed the drink in one.

Romulus wasn't a huge fan of research. He knew it was part of the hunt but it wasn't the fun part. However he couldn't chase down his prey if he didn't know where he was. The first place he checked was the Sheriff's station where too wary cops spoke with him reluctantly. Yes, they seen that man in town. No, they didn't know where he had gone. Romulus gave them a raised brow and asked why they hadn't tried to stop him when he'd gone through town. The Sheriff had replied curtly that their used to be three of them.

Romulus left laughing.

So he had been through here. If the law enforcement was too busy mourning their lost man to keep track of him then surely someone else had. Romulus visited the General Store to speak to a shrewd-eyed woman who only spoke to him curtly. Romulus leaned on the counter rolling a freshly rolled cigarette between his lips (she'd insisted he buy something before she said anything at all and he'd grabbed some tobacco and paper), and she told him that the mage had spent most of his time in the whore house getting his fill of "freebies".

"So yer sayin' this here mage rolls in and takes over the town while he was here?" asked Romulus incredulously. Usually these nonmagical types went batshit insane shootin' at anything they could.

"Hmph," the woman stuck her nose up at him haughtily, "You better believe we tried, boy," it'd been some time since anyone had called him boy, Romulus decided he liked her, "But this was like no mage I ever seen," she waved a cleaver in his face threateningly, "And I killed my share of mages!"

Romulus smiled wrly, "You look like it."

"You mockin' me?" snarled the woman.

"No ma'am, you know where this here mage was off to?"

The woman shrugged and got back to her cutting, "I dunno, you should ask one of th' whores."

Romulus grinned at her and tipped his hat, "You've been right helpful, ma'am."

She said nothing more and Romulus left feeling good. Back to the tavern then, he would be more than happy to talk to them whores. More than once if he needed to. He entered and waited in the entrance for a second so his eyes could adjust to the sudden dimness after being in the sun. Romulus walked to the bar again and took a seat next a whore wearing a bright red dress, pulling off his hat and running his hand through his hair before setting the hat back. In that one brief instance his hair did not hide the fact that his ears were just holes in his head surrounded by scarring. She gave him a disgusted look that she quickly masked. Romulus ordered the lady a drink. A happy whore was a talkative whore.

There was a ritual to be done. The wrappings and the clothes all needed to be in place, carefully checked in the mornings and evenings, after baths and changes, and upon coming to a new place. Caution was an important trait to have in these times.

Most important, though, was the heirloom. Any mage or non-magical person coming across it would simply see an old medallion, a family-crest emblazoned on it but so worn it was hardly distinguishable any longer. But it was more than that, so it was worn beneath clothing, out of sight, at all times. The weight was familiar, comfortable, and had long become customary to the point that its absence would surely be noticed. Still, once again, better to err on the side of caution then one day find carelessness to be the cause of one's downfall.

More so, considering that the previous day's travel had brought one Ray to a whore house for the night where the girls were likely to swipe anything they thought might be worth some extra money should it be sold. That thought had ensured that a dagger and pistol were Ray's bedfellows.

"Probably best to get supplies and then get a move on," Ray muttered, once the ritual was done, opening the door and then heading downstairs.

It was going well for Henry. It was the miners payday and many of them were keen enough to bet some of it gambling with him in the tavern. Gambling was as his uncle (bless his deprived soul) said, Like fishing. You need to lure the fish and let them come to you. use enough bait in order to lure the bigger fishes in closer. and when the right moment comes, reel in. He made sure that he didnt win every single time at the table so people wouldnt suspect him of cheating. Which he was of course. But his sleight of hand was flawless, like magic. Only a extremly trained eye could even hope to notice what was going on with the cards. Again if he was ever caught, he was quite certain he was quick enough with his gun to handle it. He stroked his well groomed mustache and looked at the other players with his brown eyes. took a puff of his pipe. He threw some more coints into the pile and smiled. a few moments passed and the others made their bets aswell. It was time to reel in. Henry placed his cards on the table. a full house, three queens and two aces. the other players cursed and swore as they threw their cards and left the table.

"Better luck next time gentlemen." Henry shrugged.

Upon reaching the first floor, Ray looked for the woman who had given her room up for the night and spotted her easily enough. She wore a bright red dress, which made her easy to find. Seated next to her was a man sporting a Stetson and some mean looking guns. Ray approached warily, eyes on the man.

"Dara."

The woman looked up. "Ray! Leaving already?"

Nodding, Ray pulled out a small money bag and handed it over. "For occupying your room all night."

Data didn't decline, slipping it into the front of her dress. "Not staying any longer? I can keep you company."

It appeared as if Dara didn't seem too interested in staying with the man seated next to her. Whatever the reason, Ray was neither interested in it or in remaining in town longer. Besides, Dara was one woman too interested in subjects that did not concern her.

"Some other time, perhaps."

Garhol wasn't aware of any war. It had been a long time since he spoke to anyone but himself and he prefered to keep it that way. He had his part of the desert and it was nice and warm. He lived under the roots of a giant cactus where he had dug a nice little cave. As far as he knew, he had always lived there and he had never met another human face to face. He had seen riders at a distance as they rode their horses back and forth. They always seemed to be in such a hurry.

But Garhol didn't worry, he spent his days gathering cacti-juice, and wandering around in the desert looking for snakes and rats. He had become quite an effective hunter. Somehow, he knew what the rats or snakes was going to do before they did it.

This morning, the sunrise was redder than usual and as Garhol went out for his morning walk, something didn't feel right.

Tannor watched the room and noticed the man with two rifles on his back enter the room again. It was no matter to him, though something tickled about the man, though he couldn't say what at this point.

Tannor downed another drink, short and sharp, clean, just the way he liked it. He looked over at Megan, "I'm going to look for us a job, you keep your eyes peeled." Megan looked at Tannor blankly with a distant, almost cold look, Tannor grinned, "but then you knew that already huh?" Megan smiled back, though the warmth didn't touch her eyes, "Captain, does a Tarrasque shit on a village?"

Tannor shook his head slightly in disbelief. Megan wasn't the rough looking sort, but she was blunt and to the point. Tannor stood and strode over to the bar, "Barkeep! where does a man find him and his some work?"

Romulus turned his attention to the newcomer, raking his brown eyes up and down their body, trying to figure out if they could be useful or not. He gave them a polite tip of the hat and a smile that bared his sharp white teeth. It was either a young man or a woman. Probably safer to assume it was a woman...and if it wasn't some young kid would learn to dress better, "Howdy ma'am," he said, voice low, "How long you been around these parts? Maybe you can help me?"

He pulled the poster out of his back pocket and unfolded it with long fingers, sharp nails scratching over the parchment as he held it up for her to show her the sketch of the shadowy-eyed mage, "You seen this man around anywhere?" he asked.

It never hurt to ask people who were travelers...they heard and saw a lot more than your average villager. On his other side he heard a man asking about work. Romulus ignored it and kept his attention on the other person in front of him. When it looked like the whore was about to slip off while his attention was turned he grabbed her wrist, "Not so fast, sweety," he said gruffly, "I'll get back to you shortly..."

Ray frowned. Only the really observant ever noticed she was female. It made her dislike this stranger on the spot. It didn't help that everything about him screamed "dangerous, violent creep". She barely spared the poster so much as a passing glance.

"No. Dara, be careful."

That said, she moved away from the stranger, careful to keep an eye on him in case he moved towards her and headed for the door.

Romulus shrugged and let the stranger go, the whore probably had better information anyway. Tucking the paper back into his back pocket he turned all his attention on her, "Well little lady, let's get down to business, I heard the mage spent some time in here, which of you did he spend the most time with?"

She tried to get her wrist out of his grip but he was far too strong for her, he squeezed warningly, implying he could break her wrist if he so chose to. Dara gave him a slightly fearful look and took a seat back at the bar, hanging her head a little and speaking quietly, "All of us, any of us, didn't seem to care."

"Mmmhmm," said Romulus, "And did he ever say anything 'bout where he might be heading?"

She shot a glare at him, "And how do I know you won't die chasing after him so he can come back and kill me for talkin'?"

Romulus gave her a toothy smile, "How do you know I won't kill you right now if you don't talk?"

The barkeep looks at Tannor with irritation in his eyes, his attention obviously on the man next to Tannor, "General jobs are posted oputside the general store, bounty jobs are outside of the sherriff's," He turns back to the man next to Tannor, "Hey, we don't want no trouble here."

Tannor's curiosity rose at the man next to him and then shrugged, not his town, not his establishment, therefore, not his problem.

Romulus didn't even look at the barkeep as he pulled one of his rifles off his back and stuck the muzzle in the man's face, "You know these guns are always ready to fire," he said darkly, still looking at the terrified whore, "Would be shame if one went off by accident and blew your head clear across this here bar...because I ain't after killin' innocent magic-fearin' folks like yerselves...and whore is no good to anyone dead...so I suggest you kindly leave me to my business of killin' the mages you people hate."

With one swift motion the gun was sitting on his back again and Romulus was throwing the whore over one broad shoulder, "Come on toots, let's go talk in private, this here is a bad place for a con-ver-sa-tion."

The whore gasped but was apparently too afraid to do anything else. Romulus grinned, eyes lit up under the shadow of his hat as he took long legged strides to the stairs at the other end of the bar that led up to the rooms. Why, he might get some information AND some fun. A man has needs after all.

Tannor watched the brute stride away with the whore on his shoulder. Tannor was glaring and didn't give a damn, the man was trouble if ever he had seen it. Someone who didn't care about the law or rules, or even people for that matter. Tannor heard several scrapes and glanced at the tables seeing the few numbers of his last company of men, several standing guns held idly in hand.

Tannor glanced down at his own hands and seeing his pistols in them. He had drawn them without even realising when the stranger had drawn his own gun out and threatened the barkeep. He holstered them quickly and signalled for the boys to sit as he strode over to Megan, "The keep says we should look out the Sherriff's or General store for a job, so I'm going there."

Tannor turned, "Captain, the girl?" Tannor didn't turn around, "She's not our worry Megan. She's not one of ours and right now, I'm more concerned where our next place is, this one smells rank already." Tannor felt almost disgusted with himself for his own answer, "Captain, used to be a time we didn't let a girl like that in that guy's hands."

Tannor turned and looked at Megan, "There was, but Arthurian's changed all that." With that he strode out of the bar and outside to the main street.

Romulus heard the chairs and saw the guns. Pausing, less out of worry of being shot and more at the way the men seemed to be waiting for a signal. It was strange. Like soldiers waiting for the charge. He looked at the rest of the people in the bar but couldn't tell which person these men belonged to. Ah well, not really his problem anyway. Romulus went back to ignoring them and carried the almost hyperventilating woman up the stairs.

The first few rooms had locked doors but he found one at the end that they could use. He opened the door and stepped inside the neat and tidy looking bedroom. Tch, these places always liked to PRETEND everything wasn't completely filthy. He shut and locked the door behind him before tossing the whore onto the bed, "Now let's talk, hm?" he said, placing one booted foot on the edge of the bed and leaning in close to her, "Where did the mage say he was off to?"

The woman scoot away shuddering, pressing herself up against the headboard of the bed, "Please, sir, I-"

Romulus had one of his rifles in her face before she could even finish, "Lady, you got the information I need and I am going to get it, don't think I can't do things with this gun that will make you scream for mercy," the long barrel of his gun touched her delicate throat and then traveled down. Over her breasts and down...

"Stop it!" she curled up tightly, looking even more terrified, "Fine! Fuck you mister!" she spat in his face.

Romulus calmly wiped away the spit and put his rifle back, "Alright whore, out with it then."

She looked furious, tears in the corners of her painted eyes, "He headed out of town, said he was goin' West! All that's out that way is a bunch of desert! Nearest town ain't for a hundred miles and he didn't even have a horse!"

Romulus sneered and tipped his hat at her, "Thank you kindly ma'am, you've been right helpful...I was gonna fuck you now but...you look all used up."

She hissed and spat at his back as he walked out of the room, a smug look on his face. Out in the desert huh? Middle of fucking nowhere... the town the whore was talking about was called Silverstone and it was just a tiny little thing, almost a ghost town. So...maybe he was looking for something that was IN the desert? Romulus headed back down the stairs, a thoughtful look on his face.

After heading outside, Ray didn't linger near, instead heading straight for the general store. She might have felt guilty leaving Dara with the man, considering everything about him screamed "dangerous, violent creep" except that it was hard to feel sorry for a woman who'd taken advantage of a number of men's drunkenness the night before and stolen most, if not all, that they'd had on them. Dara had been less than happy when Ray had rented the last available room from the innkeeper, offering more than the other woman could without raising suspicions on how she'd acquired so much money so early in the evening with the few number of men she'd had that night.

The money she'd offered her was actually money she'd promised Dara the night before if she kept herself and any of the other prostitutes who might resent having to use another inn from coming into her room. Not once did anyone come in, although twice she'd heard footsteps in the hall and voices outside her room.

"Well, done with that. Time to go." Ray went over to the woman in the general store. "Excuse me, ma'am?"

The woman looked over at her, giving her an appraising look, eyes sharp. "What can I do for you, missy?" Ray's first reaction at once again finding another person to realize she was a woman was to look over her shoulder into the rest of the store. Empty. Aside from the stranger in the inn and this woman, only Dara knew, and she hadn't realized it herself. Ray had told her to convince her to try to stop trying to get into her pants. The woman noticed her reaction and continued, "You don't have an adam's apple, honey. Gives you away. Where a bandanna around your neck or something."

"Thanks for the tip," Ray said, reaching over and grabbing a bandanna from a stack. "I wanted to ask, what's the next town?"

"Depending which direction you're heading," the woman said. "You've got Rutherford to the east and Jansen to the south, both 'round 50 miles or so. North for about 75, you've got Classon and Perryton within 5 miles of each other. Then there's Silverstone to the west, but that's 100 miles away, through desert. Few travel that way outside of a caravan, 'less they running from something, like those mages."

Ray raised an eyebrow, passing over the money for the bandanna, tying it around her neck as she asked casually. "Mages going West? What for?"

"Rumor has it," the woman leaned across the small counter to adjust the bandanna for her as she spoke. "Farther west, past Silverstone, is a place called Refuge, or it's simply become a refuge, where the mages are gathering."

"Is that so...?"

"You do well to probably head somewhere else," the woman advised. "You seem like a sweet girl, no matter your reason for pretending to be a guy. Mages are nothing but trouble and I bet this store they're probably up to something."

Ray smiled. "I'll keep that in mind, ma'am. Thank you."

With that, Ray took her leave of the store. Refuge, huh? To the West? Guess she knew where she was going next.

Romulus didn't linger in the bar, instead stepping back out into the blinding sunshine and walking over to the hitching post across the dusty road that held his horse. Romulus normally didn't attach any feelings to whatever animal happened to be carting him about the desert, but he had to admit he was fond of this beast. A monstrous horse, all white with blue eyes so cold and mean it could make a boiling lake freeze over. Romulus had gotten him at a major discount. And by discount he meant he killed the previous horse's owner (a mage worth a small bounty) and taken the horse as his. The beast had almost taken off his nose the first time he had approached it. It kicked and bit and screamed like a demon. It had taken almost a year of work but Romulus had finally gotten the horse to obey him. It still lashed out at him occasionally, but that's what made it fun.

Romulus had given him the name Remus after his long dead kid brother. Patting Remus on the neck he grinned, "We're gonna go on a bit of a trip, you ready for it?"

Remus snorted and tried to turn his head far enough to take a chunk out of Romulus's arm. He moved back with a small laugh, "I'll take that as a yes...let's see...what sort of supplies should I stock up on...?" Romulus dug through his saddle bags and took a quick count of what he had and what he was low on. He would definitely need a few more skeins of water...a little flour...some dried fruits and vegetables...

Time to pay another visit to the General Store and that charming woman who'd helped him earlier... Romulus counted through his gold to see what he had before sauntering off down the road. He spotted the woman dressed like a man coming out, now complete with bandana. If Romulus hadn't already known her sex, he'd be hard pressed to call her anything but a man now. What a fucking weird broad. Romulus ignored her in favor of entering the store again.

The woman looked less than pleased to see him, but was mostly cordial when it became clear he was looking for items and not information. As he gathered up his new items he gave her a look from under the brim of his hat, "Say," he said lowly, "You know of anything happenin' to the west of here?"

"There's a town," she said curtly. She paused and then added on, "Well...this isn't fact but...lots of mages go out...past the town. Some say they're living all together out there. Refuge."

Romulus's eyes lit up, "You don't say? Thank ya ma'am," he hurried out of the store with long strides, almost jogging to Remus and loading up his saddlebags, "First stop!" he laughed as the horse tried to take a bite out of him again, stomping a hoof angrily when he didn't succeed, "Silvestone!"

With one swift motion Romulus had the reins untied from the hitching post and was jumping on to Remus's broad back, "Let's go you filthy son of a whore!" roared Romulus, kicking his onry horse in the shank and galloping down the road, leaving only a trail of dust.

100 miles.

Ray knew she'd make better progress on horse, but although she had money, probably enough to buy one, it would be a stupid purchase. There was no telling what of that money she might need later on, and she really had no skills she could use to work and make more. At least, not any that wouldn't get her killed.

"But it'll keep me alive through the desert," she muttered to herself.

She rubbed at the medallion beneath her clothes, then set out, leaving the town behind her. 100 miles would take her two or three days to walk if she took care to not stop for too long.

Henry sat quietly as he saw the events unfold. his hand twitched as weapons were drawn. That man with the rifles, undoubtly a bounty hunter and a coldhearted killer. The entourage of tavellers caught his attention.... One of them called their leader Captain. Former soldiers without a job? He thought back to the days he was a officer in the Industrialist army, he had earned more medals than his uniform would fit and more than once chance to become a general. However basking in the glory, fame and fortune didnt not outweight the things he was ordered to to during the war. So he deserted at the end of the war with some of his men which all of them went their seperate ways. If his father would see him today he would roll over in his grave. He smiled at the thought and collected his winnings and put on his hat and jacket. He should probably move on. He stepped outside and looked around... the roads went to northeast or west. or perhaps he should take the train south east to Dagonport. Probably not, to many lawmen knew his face in the more civilized regions. Even with his new impressive mustache to conceal his features. So he flipped a coin over which direction to go. Heads..... West it was then. He would need supplies and water.. he went to fetch his horse.

As the day went by, Garhol drank his cactus juice and caught some rats. It seemed to be a day just like the others. He was surviving the wilderness and enjoying it. Nothing had disturbed him so far and that's the way he liked it.

As he laid upon the dunes, he saw people in the distance. He had seen many people rushing, but this time it was different. The man was traveling fast but there was no horse. Instead it seemed like the sand itself was moving with the wind, carrying the man fast through the desert. Unfortunately he was heading straight towards Garhol.

Garhol laid still, trying to blend in with the sand. The man came closer and when he was just a few meters away he stopped and began talking.

"Who goes there? No need to hide, I sense you and therefore we should be friends."

Garhol crept out from his hiding place and said:

"Garhol, name I have it is" with a voice that seemed to have been forgotten in a dusty chest.
"Friends I have not, what name you have?" , "Melgan is it not, I feel it can"?

Melgan raised an eyebrow and smirked.

"Telepath eh? We could use a man like you, come join me. I'm on my way to an important summit."

"Garhol rats and snakes have to catch, not be much food if no snakes or rats have been found. Garhol not time has to run on summits important be or not"

Garhol began to move back towards his cacti cave

"Garhol, we need you. Don't you know there's been a war, people are after people like us"

"All Garhol knows is that you come with trouble, Garhol has peace quit and so. Garhol now talked to tired."

"Boy, how long have you been out here? Look a snake!"

Melgan pointed in a direction and then knocked Garhol out with a telekinetic blow to the head.

"We got to find you a healer, cause' your nuts."

The sand began to whirl around them and both Garhol and Melgan was swept away with the wind

Tannor had taken copies of some of the wanted posters, working on the basis that you never really knew who you were going to run into, and he was all about information, although, if he ever admitted it to himself, he was all about running as well.

He had returned back to Megan in the tavern and told her to round up the company, well, what was left, aside from himself and Megan, there were only 3 able lads, Young Jonathan, the war veteran Jayne and Francis. He didn't trust them to sit the right way on a toilet seat, but if that is what he had to work with, he was sure as hell not going to turn them down, besides, they enjoyed the money as much as anyone else.

Tannor whistled tunelessly as he placed the goods near the loading bay of the train. He had been lucky, very lucky. He had spied the help wanted notice beneath some request for good cartage and Tannor had been intrigued. He had met this Schmekel and his family and taken on the job to escort them west. Admittedly, some details for now were missing, like why West? and also the fact this Hans Schmekel had asked for West past Silverstone and will tell more once they hit Silverstone.

Tannor didn't care, the fact that Hans was pay five thousand credits to escort his family safely was what had won Tannor over. One thousand each for the entire company, it was deal too good to pass up, and the fact Hans had paid half in advance made it even sweeter.

Oh, Tannor could feel some sort of dark storm brewing which looked no good for he and his, but he didn't care.

He boarded the train as he saw the porters load his supplies and goods on the train and Megan stood in the hallway, "Captain, the cargo is loaded, only Jayne is aboard with us, Young and Francis aimed to stay and settle." Tannor gave Megan a level look, "Shame really, I wish them all the best, but what's done is done. Set up Jayne on top, I'll go down the far side and you stay here, we'll try to make sure the Schmekel's don't hurt themselves while we're on watch."

Tannor moved past Megan to move down the carriage, noting that the Schmekel's were down the far side, "Captain, plain speaking, that Uncle Fritz seems like a strange fellow, stranger than most.". Tannor stopped and looked back Megan. She spoke her mind a lot and she had seen things during the war, for someone to seem strange to her, well, Tannor had felt the same way, he turned and looked back at Uncle Fritz who was staring at Tannor and Megan. He was tall, thin and his black hair seemed greasy or oily somehow. Something about his face tickled Tannor's memory, but he couldn't place it, not just yet, and his medallion was no help, it had grown cold since entering the town and not stopped, "I know what you mean, but we're paid to protect, not work on our feelings, you watch the front now."

Tannor moved down the train, trying to reassure the frightened family with a smile as he walked past. Hans Schmekel, a large rotund man who sweated too much, his thin moustache looking like some worm not only crawled up on his face and died, but was cooked too long in the sun as well. His wife was a short plump woman, blonde hair and an occasion to hold on to her kids a little too much, a young boy and girl, neither looking more than five years old, and the entire Schmekel family looking scared, like some goblin had ousted them out of this small town. All except Uncle Fritz, he was calm, and staring at Tannor with those dark eyes again.

Tannor moved on and sat down at the end of the carriage, several seats behind the Schmekel's while Megan sat at the front.

All going well, this job would be too easy. Tannor cursed himself for thinking that.

They were making fantastic time. Romulus ran alongside the railroad tracks that ran West, they'd go to Silverstone and from there he would have to find the trail himself. Mages wouldn't be so stupid that they'd put a Refuge right next to a railroad. Remus's hoof beats were loud in the silent desert. It was almost as if Romulus were the only person in the world out here. He liked it that way.

After galloping for about an hour he tugged on Remus's reins, "Whoaa...! Whoa you whoreson!"

Remus snorted angrily at being interrupted from his run and halfheartedly attempted to buck Romulus out of the saddle. The stallion was too tired to do much though and Romulus just laughed at him before grabbing the reins and dismounting. If he was going to riding Remus 100 miles through endless desert he would have to keep the damn horse hydrated. He led the snorting heaving beast to a collection of green cacti and threw the reins around one of the before grabbing one of his water skeins. For a nonmagical type this would be a bit of a chore, however Romulus just poured the water out of the skein and held it, suspended, between his two hands. As if there were an invisible trough there.

Remus drank greedily until the water was gone. Romulus gave the horse a pat on the neck and then turned his eyes on the cacti. He could wait until they found an oasis to fill up the now empty skein. It wouldn't require magic which Romulus tried not to use TOO much, because otherwise it made you reek of it. Even nonmagic folks with a bit of sensitivity would start to identify him as a mage if he used his powers willynilly. And once you stank it took forever for it wear off.

Romulus decided it probably wouldn't matter out in the desert, the taint of magic would likely dissipate on the ride to Silverstone. Muttering under his breath Romulus walked around the cacti patch, scratching a circle in the dust around them with the toe of his boot and then drawing symbols on the inside of the circle. There was a way to do this without the ceremony but...Romulus didn't fancy drinking needles. Finishing up his spell with a word that made the air sizzle unpleasantly the cacti shriveled and died as the pure water within flew from them and filled up his skein. There was a little more than the skein could fit and he drank most of it happily, letting Remus finish the rest.

Hydrated and rested he mounted Remus and kicked him into an easy cantor. The last thing he wanted was his horse dying out here of exhaustion. The railroad tracks were a straight shot and Romulus let his mind wander as his horse ran beside them.

She had lost track of the time. All she knew was that it was hella hot and seemed to grow moreso with every step she took. Perhaps she'd have done well to take the train or something.

"Or travel at night, at least," Ray muttered. She knew she was going to end up using her magic to cross the desert, but she'd hoped it would only be for water. "But at this rate, I'm gonna fry."

Stopping, she looked around out of habit to be sure no one was around and took the medallion around her neck off. Then, she drew a circle of symbols on the ground. The spell was originally meant for water, so when she was done, she went around making the necessary adjustments too adapt it for sand. Once that was finished, she stood at the center and chanted the spell.

Beneath her feet, the spell solidified, creating a hard board-like creation. With a word, she sent it racing forward. She crouched down on it to maintain her balance and lifted the bandanna around her neck over her mouth and nose.

With the medallion in hand, she decided this was a much better way to travel.

Henry had just bought his supplies and packed his gear. He sat up on his brown and white flecked horse. He began to stroll out of town when he noticed a few travellers about to ride a carriage out of town, three men and two women. It would be safer to travel with them he imagined. At least he could talk to these people without getting shot, compared to that bounty hunter.

He casually rode up to them and greeted them by raising his hat and bowing. "Greetings gentlemen....Ladies." he said "Are you by any chance heading west? Henry John Holliday is the name, I am a traveller just as you and I was wondering wether i could join you on the way to Silverstone. The supply store clerk informed me that the wastes out there are especially treacherous."

He liked the name he had given himself, using his birthname Benjamin C. Martin would have been pushing it.

"Huh....W-W-Well i dont know sir, we are on a private errand." The man replied. almost nervous.

"Whatever your business are they are none of mine. You can trust me to help defend the carriage if we get attacked. I brought my own food and water so you wont have to share your own." Henry replied.

"Honey are you certain we can let him follow?" his wife asked.

"He said he was going to stay in Silverstone, so we will be alright.....*ahem*... very well then Mr. Holliday you may join us on the journey.... we are just about ready to go. The name is Silverman by the way, Talus Silverman and this is my wife Carla."

Henry nodded "Lead the way then Mr.Silverman."...... he then watched the carrige stroll of and he started following it. He thought he could hear some muffled voices in the back of the carriage. But he paid no heed to it.

((alright then, timeskip agogo!))

The trip was long and uneventful, a few praire wolves could be heard in the distance but other than that nothing much happened during Henrys trip with the travellers, he could hear the train in the distance. There was a feeling of tension in the air each night they ate in front of the campfire. Talus himself seemed to be less worried and jumpy once they were a few miles out of town. wish one could say that about the other travellers, none of them even so much as looked at him in the eye. The children however seemed less worrysome but Carla and her Sister Ada instructed them clearly to keep away from him. Fair enough, he wouldnt want his children near a man like himself. if he ever had any children. It was high moon and the others were starting to prepare themsevels for the night.

"I can take first watch." Henry offered himself. trying to break the silence. the two other men and Talus now looked at him. it was an uncomfortable feeling. he stood up and walked of and sat down on a rock several paces away. "Ill wake one of you in a few hours."Henry said as he lit his pipe and took a puff of it. His suspicions began to build up towards the travellers... perhaps it was he who should be worried about them and not the other way around.

The train seemed to roll from side to side, disconcerting in a way as Tannor was used to the rolling movements of the horse, but here there was just nothing to straddle.

He looked around the carriage and noted that there were several dozen people aside from Megan and the Schmekel's, though from his scrutiny many just seemed simple honest folk, well, rich, simple honest folk, why if Schmekel hadn't offered to pay for the train, Tannor would never had agreed, it cost a fair amount of credits to travel this way.

Uncle Fritz sat next to Tannor suddenly and smiled like some strange weasel at Tannor, "So tell me Mr Tannor, what brings you this far out? It must be some tale indeed to have Captain Tannor of the 21st Brigade to such a low place as here?"

Tannor looked at Fritz, trying to place the face to any other name, any other person who could have known about his past, someone from his past. Tannor leaned closer to Fritz, and unwanted act, but he wanted this conversation as quiet as possible, "I reckon you have me mistaken with someone else," Tannor replied quietly, "I reckon, you were mistaken, because there is no way in hell that I either know what you are on about or will admit to knowing what you are talking about."

Fritz put his hands up in supplication, that smile, so strange, so cold in a way, more like baring teeth like some wild dog then smiling Tannor thought, "My apologies Mr Tannor, but..." Tannor shushed him as he heard 2 thumps on the roof, then a pause and then 6 thumps. Tannor swore under his breath.

"No more Mr Fritz, it seems we've got us a situation, if'n you'll excuse me." Tannor said, releasing the catch on his guns and stood and stepped past Fritz. Moving down to Megan he crouched down next to her seat as the train rolled on, "We got us 6 coming in from the west." He said quietly as the door to the carriage opened, Jayne striding in nursing his rifle.

Jayne was a brawler, a gun toting craze, though he could fire with the best of them, he wasn't the smartest barrel in the pub. He was six foot four of muscles. He was gruff, he was hard, and he liked to fight. All traits that Tannor disliked, but used anyway. Jayne sat next to Megan, "Tannor, there ain't a one on here sides us that looks like they could use a gun, what are we on about on this one?"

Tannor looked at the passengers, "No point telling 'em anything, they'll panic and there'll be a hurting. I say you two stay here, I'll move back to the other end, we'll let them in and put the drop on them, at best, they'll have to file through, which will work for us." Megan and Jayne nodded, though Jayne, not the smartest was sensible and placed his rifle on the floor and readied two pistols.

Tannor stood and moved back to his seat, sitting down reluctantly to Uncle Fritz. "Is there a problem Mr Tannor?" Fritz asked, that smile almost mocking in a way, "Nothing you need worry about, I've got this well in hand."

The screech of the wheels sounded out suddenly and Tannor felt inertia try to kick in and send him falling forward into the wall. He cursed inwardly. He hoped he had this in hand.

Romulus had been letting Remus rest and get something to eat, taking the time to grab a bite himself. Just something quick to keep him going until tonight when he could start a fire and cook some real food. His sharp teeth tore through the jerky with little problem. He'd been procuring some water for Remus when he saw more than heard a train on the tracks. The tracks were vibrating. Romulus hurriedly guided the water back into the skein before squinting down the track. It would figure the train would catch up, train could move as fast as Remus without having to rest.

Grabbing the reins Romulus led Remus further away from the tracks so his ill tempered horse didn't spook at feeling the grab of the huge object. That was when he heard the squealing start, "What the fuck?" he muttered as Remus gnashed furiously at his reins, "They're stopping the train..." It was still too far away for him to tell why. Perhaps there would be money in this opportunity...

With a grin on his face Romulus mounted his horse and trot towards the slowing train. These iron monsters always took a lot of track before they stopped, he'd probably end up meeting it there. Time to see what all the fuss was about. Just to be safe he pulled one rifle free of it's bandoleer, no one would get the jump on him.

Henry could have sworn he had heard something in the bushes. he calmly surveyed the area around them. he then saw a fox skitter away in the undergrowth. Henry chuckled to himself and let out a brief sigh of relief. Only to then feel the sensation of having a gun pointed at him. he raised his arms slowly and turned around. And there was three armed men dressed in black with red scarfs. Their leader made a gesture and one of then stepped forward to disarm henry of his pistol and hunting knife.

-"So what can i help you gentlemen with?" Henry said almost casually, in response he was rifle butted in his stomach... winding him.

"You be quiet for starters." said their leader he signalled again with his hand, his two henchmen along with three more that appeared from the darkness moved in on the carriage.

"You clearly arent with of these people. But you understand, these people are criminals on the run from the law. And you know helping criminals is punishable by death." the leader then said.

"Figured as much." Henry said and then suddenly he flicked his right hand, a throwing knife embedded itself in the mans throat, the man gurgled and then fell motionless. he quickly scurried over and retrieved the knife and the mans own rifle and ammo, hid the corpse and then stealthily snuck out into the bushes.

He saw Talus and his people were being forced on their knees on a straight line and their carriage ransacked and prepared to be torched. Henry knew all to well what was going on. he had done so himself during the war. these people clearly where not lawmen, but hired killers. Henry took a deep breath and steadied his stolen rifle and took aim.